The poetical reader, with notes and questions by A.W. BuchanAlexander Winton Buchan 1859 |
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Seite 8
... happy infant dreams . It shines upon the fisher's boat , Out on the lonely sea ; Or where the little lambkins lie , Beneath the old oak tree . The dew - drops on the summer morn , Sparkle upon the grass ; The village children brush them ...
... happy infant dreams . It shines upon the fisher's boat , Out on the lonely sea ; Or where the little lambkins lie , Beneath the old oak tree . The dew - drops on the summer morn , Sparkle upon the grass ; The village children brush them ...
Seite 9
... happy then , From pain and death you say I shall be free- That sickness never enters there , and we Shall meet again ! " " Brother ! -the little spot I used to call my garden , where long hours We've stayed to watch the budding things ...
... happy then , From pain and death you say I shall be free- That sickness never enters there , and we Shall meet again ! " " Brother ! -the little spot I used to call my garden , where long hours We've stayed to watch the budding things ...
Seite 22
... happy as the best . Joyful are the thoughts of home , Now I'm ready for my chair , So , till to - morrow morning's come , Bill and mittens , lie ye there ! Though to leave your pretty song , Little birds , it gives me pain , Yet to ...
... happy as the best . Joyful are the thoughts of home , Now I'm ready for my chair , So , till to - morrow morning's come , Bill and mittens , lie ye there ! Though to leave your pretty song , Little birds , it gives me pain , Yet to ...
Seite 35
... happy , happy elf ! THOMAS HOOD . ( But stop - first let me kiss away that tear ) Thou tiny image of myself ! ( My love , he's poking peas into his ear ) Thou merry laughing sprite ! With spirits feather light , Untouched by sorrow ...
... happy , happy elf ! THOMAS HOOD . ( But stop - first let me kiss away that tear ) Thou tiny image of myself ! ( My love , he's poking peas into his ear ) Thou merry laughing sprite ! With spirits feather light , Untouched by sorrow ...
Seite 36
... those genial days when we seem to draw in pleasure with the very air we breathe , and to feel happy we know not why . Whoever has felt the worth of worthy man , or has doted on lovely woman 36 SELECTED POETRY . Alfred Tennyson.
... those genial days when we seem to draw in pleasure with the very air we breathe , and to feel happy we know not why . Whoever has felt the worth of worthy man , or has doted on lovely woman 36 SELECTED POETRY . Alfred Tennyson.
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
angel arms beauty beneath bird blessed breast breath bright brothers CANUTE child clouds cold comes cottage dark dead dear death deep early earth eternal face fair father fear fire flowers friends give gone grave green grief hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hope hour Italy king knew LADY leave light live look Lord meet mind morning mother nature nest never night o'er once pass play poor praise pride Queen rest rise rock rose round seen side silent sing sleep smile song soon soul sound speak spirit stand stood streams summer sweet tears tell thee things thou thought tree Twas village voice waters weary wild wind wing young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 23 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Seite 23 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At' that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near.
Seite 98 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms...
Seite 70 - Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew. Scattering unbeholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view: Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Seite 60 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink : Companion of the morning-star at dawn, Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn Co-herald : wake, O wake, and utter praise ! Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth ? Who filled thy countenance with rosy light ? Who made thee parent of perpetual streams...
Seite 69 - What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Seite 87 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Seite 54 - Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise. We see but dimly through the mists and vapors Amid these earthly damps What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Seite 64 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Seite 91 - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still ; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his last, ) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.